


Out of My Depth

by Lady Divine (fhartz91)



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crushes, Dalton Academy, Drama, Kissing, M/M, Sexual Content, Teen Angst, Teen Romance, Wet Dream, not officially Klaine
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-05
Updated: 2015-02-01
Packaged: 2018-02-07 15:31:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1904268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fhartz91/pseuds/Lady%20Divine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt has everything he thought he wanted - he's in a school where he doesn't get bullied, he's a member of the prestigious Warbler showchoir, dating (well, kind of...he thinks he might be, anyway) the one and only Blaine Anderson. So, how come he still feels like something's off...and why does he feel that 'something' with Sebastian Smythe?</p><p>A Dalton AU where Sebastian attended Dalton at the same time as Blaine and Kurt, with the Kurt and Blaine storyline staying pretty much the same, only with the inclusion of Sebastian. Also, all three boys are juniors in this. Starts sometime around the episode "Original Song".</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Out of Step

“…five, six, seven, eight…”

Kurt counted the steps off under his breath, moving with the rhythm he fought to keep while stumbling through the new steps Blaine had taught them the day before. It wasn’t like there was much to them. Kurt had started to realize after a while that basically all the Warblers did was sway in the background while Blaine sang the solos, so it wasn’t like anything he taught them was technically challenging. Besides, Kurt was a McKinley High Booty Camp alumnus extraordinaire. He feared no triple-ball-change, never ran away from a grapevine or a heel-turn. Regardless of that, he still couldn’t seem to get his feet to do what he wanted. No matter how hard he tried, he always seemed to be out of step.

That was the story of his life, really.

He had been out of step when he was a little boy asking his father for sensible heels for his birthday.

He was out of step in McKinley, hiding who he truly was, and then again when he finally found the courage to come out.

Even here in the hallowed halls of Dalton Academy, surrounded by people who accepted and respected him, he felt more out of step than ever, because being safe meant staying hidden. He didn’t originally think it would matter too much, wearing a uniform and blending in with the crowd, especially with Blaine there to guide him, but conforming meant more than leaving his precious wardrobe behind.

Yes, he wasn’t being Slushied or tossed into dumpsters, but he wasn’t being true to himself, either.

“One, two, three, four…”

He continued counting, continued with the same monotonous steps, and subsequently continued to trip and stumble after every slow box step.

“Dammit,” he muttered, straightening his blazer and preparing to give it another go. He didn’t want to; he _really_ didn’t want to. He was still a bit sore about the Warbler council shooting down his suggestion for a Sondheim medley at Regionals in favor of Blaine’s recommendation of _another_ Katy Perry showstopper. He felt bitter, but he wasn’t exactly surprised. The Warblers had ixnayed every song suggestion he had made since he got into the group.

Maybe it was time for him to just give up and stop trying.

“…three, four, five… _shit_!”

Another slow box step and another stumble, only this time he clipped the carpet with the toe of his loafer and tripped forward into a wooden desk.

Kurt heard a low rumble of laughter, heralding the arrival of the one boy Kurt dreaded running into.

“It’s two, three, kick-step turn,” Sebastian instructed with a smug smile on his face, “not two, three, fall into the front row and take out the audience.”

“Ha, ha,” Kurt deadpanned. “Very funny.”

“Always glad to help,” Sebastian said, finding a prime spot in the room to watch Kurt Hummel make a fool of himself. Kurt returned to his spot and saw Sebastian take up residence on one of the sofas. He groaned internally.

“Don’t you have a blowjob to give in the janitor’s closet at four?” Kurt jeered, getting back to his practicing. “If you don’t leave now you’re going to be late.”

“Unfortunately, Blaine wasn’t available today so my Tuesday afternoon b.j.’s been canceled,” Sebastian answered without missing a beat, enjoying the way Kurt’s cheeks instantly flamed at the mention of Sebastian’s newest obsession – trying to get into the pants of the one and only Blaine Anderson. Sebastian knew all about Kurt’s crush on sex-on-a-stick-and-sings-like-a-dream Blaine Anderson. Kurt wasn’t exactly stealthy, what with the way he doodled Blaine’s name into his notebook or his over-the-top heart eyes every time Anderson entered a room.

Sebastian couldn’t attest to being quite as enamored with Blaine as Kurt was, but the boy did have one heck of an ass. No, Sebastian had decided the first moment they met that it would be way too much fun to mess with Kurt by deflowering his precious schoolboy Blaine.

It was that bashful schoolboy persona that had originally attracted him to Blaine, but more and more Sebastian was beginning to realize that Blaine was kind of…bland. Blaine was a bit on the predictable side, but Kurt - Kurt had all the fire and passion in their relationship. He had the venom and wit of Sylvia Plath, he didn’t wither beneath Sebastian’s insults, and _his_ ass wasn’t half bad, either.

Maybe Sebastian would have to reconsider his game plan. It seemed that he might be wasting his time pursuing the wrong conquest.

“Having sex or performing sexual acts on campus is against school rules, Hummel,” Sebastian taunted. “I would think that a good, upstanding Dalton boy such as yourself would have the rule book memorized backward and forward.” Sebastian lowered his eyes and gazed up at Kurt innocently – succeeding in coming across as innocent as a bloodthirsty jackal. “You wouldn’t be trying to get me kicked out of Dalton, would you?”

“Not that that would stop you,” Kurt bit back, staring at his feet so he wouldn’t have to see the gloating smile on Sebastian’s face.

“You’re absolutely right, princess,” Sebastian agreed, “and do you know why?”

“If I say I don’t care, would you shut up and leave?” Kurt asked, performing a perfect half-turn in time to the music in his head.

“No one here can touch me,” Sebastian drawled despite Kurt’s objection. He made his way across the room to where Kurt struggled through the rest of the steps, doing his level best to ignore any malicious comments Sebastian might make. “First of all, my dad’s a state’s attorney.” Sebastian ran his fingers lightly across the furniture as he stalked through the room. “Second, my parents donate a shitload of money to this dump every year.” He rounded the sofa, picking up one of the flat throw pillows and hitting it against his hand, watching with a wince of snobbish disgust as a cloud of dust wafted up into the air. He tossed the pillow back down in vicious retaliation. “Finally, I’m a Dalton legacy…My grandfather came here….my father came here…” Sebastian leaned back against the wooden desk only a foot or so from Kurt. “And I fully intend to come here, if you catch my drift.”

Kurt stepped out too far to the right and his foot slid out from under him.

“In fact,” Sebastian continued, delighting in making Kurt flub up, especially when he looked like he had been concentrating so hard, “I could drink in here, smoke in here…” Sebastian’s voice dropped dramatically as he continued. “I could strip you naked right now and fuck you here on this desk if I wanted to, and nobody would say boo about it.”

Kurt stood up straight and glared at the boy who winked suggestively at him.

“Well, feel free to fuck _yourself_ ,” Kurt snapped back, “just so long as it’s not in here. I need to concentrate.”

“Do I distract you?” Sebastian purred, inching across the desk closer to Kurt. Kurt didn’t look up; he simply side-stepped away.

“No,” Kurt lied, “but you reek like the perfume department at Bloomingdale’s and your constant yapping is giving me a colossal headache.”

Kurt turned his back to Sebastian, which he realized too late was a mistake when the irritating boy wolf-whistled, presumably at the sight of Kurt’s swaying hips, but he had to find a quick way to hide the blush growing in intensity on his cheeks. Despite how repugnant he found the idea, the image of Sebastian bending him over the desk was one he couldn’t seem to get out of his head. After all, Kurt had a crush on Blaine – charming, dapper, gentlemanly Blaine. Blaine would never make such crass comments to Kurt. Blaine would never whistle at Kurt’s ass. Blaine wouldn’t proposition Kurt on a wooden desk in the senior commons.

Sebastian was absolutely nothing like Blaine.

So, why did the idea of Sebastian get Kurt so hot under the collar?

Sebastian dialed down the flirting, but he didn’t leave, content to watch Kurt fluster over and over again with a mischievous grin on his face.

“You know, you’re dropping a step,” Sebastian said, pushing off the desk he was leaning on and walking over to where Kurt gave it one last go, not wanting Sebastian to be right; _anything_ but that.

“No, I’m not,” Kurt argued, whining slightly. He performed the routine over, but Sebastian stopped him midway, reaching out a hand to grab hold of his elbow. His grip was gentler than Kurt expected – his fingers wrapping securely around the juncture of Kurt’s upper arm, and suddenly Kurt felt a jolt. A sparkle of energy shimmied beneath his blazer and shot up his arm, sparking like a spray of fireworks over his skin, so potent that Kurt could almost hear it sizzle. Both boys stopped and Kurt could see by the way Sebastian’s expression shifted on his face – from arrogance to confusion - that he felt it, too. But all too soon Sebastian’s cocky smile returned, growing from the curl of his lips until it reached his eyes. The moment was gone, whatever that moment had been, and Kurt searched his mind for a way to excuse it away.

The weather had been dry lately as winter started phasing out. He was also spinning around on an old, dusty rug. Put them all together and you get static electricity.

Yes…definitely static electricity.

Thank you, science.

“Now that I have your attention,” Sebastian said, “watch me.”

Sebastian took Kurt’s place and started to move, his hips swaying from side to side in a way that made Kurt forget to focus on his feet. Sebastian saw and snapped his fingers in Kurt’s face, chuckling softly when Kurt startled and stepped back.

“My feet, princess, are on the floor,” Sebastian sassed. “Focus on my feet.”

Kurt straightened up stiffly, blushing to his roots, but surprisingly Sebastian let it slide without another ruthless taunt. He performed the routine again. Kurt’s eyes stayed glued firmly to Sebastian’s feet so that they wouldn’t stray, and to Kurt’s dismay he discovered that Sebastian had been right all along. Kurt had dropped a step.

“Fuck!” Kurt gasped, exasperated.

“Well, if you really want to,” Sebastian said, wiggling his eyebrows and stifling a laugh.

Kurt rolled his eyes and groaned.

“Your loss.” Sebastian shrugged, brushing off Kurt’s rejection and getting into place again. “I’m going to do it one last time,” Sebastian said instructively, “and then you can give it a try.”

Sebastian moved through the steps once more and Kurt paid close attention, eager to learn the routine and have know-it-all Sebastian be on his way…but for the life of him Kurt was finding it hard to remember why he wanted Sebastian gone so badly.

“Okay, enough watching,” Sebastian announced, motioning Kurt forward with a wave of his hand. “Now it’s time to perform.”

Kurt grimaced at Sebastian’s choice of words, but the tone of his voice wasn’t the usual bordering-on-the-edge-of-mockery tone he usually affected. He sounded like he really cared if Kurt got this right or not…

…or he was desperate to cop a feel. Only time would tell.

Kurt walked over to Sebastian warily, eying his hands with suspicion before taking a spot in front of him.

“Okay, we’ll take it from the refrain,” Sebastian said. “Are you ready?”

Kurt didn’t look back over his shoulder at Sebastian when he nodded, too focused on the strange lump growing in his chest – a lump that crowded around his heart, making it hard to breathe.

“Five…six…seven…eight…”

Kurt started to move, repeating the steps he saw Sebastian do, picking up the missed step after the slow box step and just like that he had it down. It was so easy this time around that Kurt wanted to cheer in triumph.

“One more time, Hummel,” Sebastian said, not waiting for Kurt’s approval. “Five…six…seven…eight…”

Kurt moved again and this time Sebastian shimmied up beside him so that they were dancing side by side. Kurt could see him clearly now from the corner of his eye, but what struck him more was the way they moved together, playing off each other – each sway of their hips, each touch of their feet on the floor, each turn, even their posture was nearly identical as they danced this way.

Kurt swung his arm out on the last step and felt his hand slide into Sebastian’s grip. Sebastian pulled Kurt close before he had a second to think about objecting and held him in his arms, twirling him around a la Ginger Rogers and Fred Astaire, dipping him deeply and then setting him free – way too quickly for Kurt’s liking.

“Wh-where did you learn that?” Kurt asked, laughing to cover up his breathlessness.

“I took ballroom dance at my parent’s country club for six years,” Sebastian said with a one-shoulder shrug, “because, of course, that’s what every boy wants to do on a Sunday morning - learn the foxtrot in the arms of a smelly old lady.”

“You poor thing,” Kurt said sincerely but still with the echo of a laugh dying in his throat. “If it’s any consolation, you’re really good at it.”

“Thank you,” Sebastian said, bowing slightly. “Maybe I could teach you.”

The words slipped out past Sebastian’s lips unguarded and both boys stopped cold. Kurt stared into Sebastian’s eyes, waiting for the raunchy remark or rude comment that was sure to ruin the moment, but none came. In fact, there was something new in Sebastian’s intense green eyes that Kurt hadn’t seen before.

Fear. Fear of rejection.

Fear of being rejected by Kurt.

Kurt swallowed hard as the lump in his chest grew bigger, and everything around him seemed to stand still, waiting for his decision. His hand moved slowly from his side, in search of that other hand that fit it so well.

“Th-that would be…”

“Kurt!” a relieved tenor voice and a long sigh broke through the tension. Sebastian straightened up in a snap, and Kurt’s hand dropped back to his side. “Here you are! Trent told me I might find you in here.” Blaine breezed through the room, acknowledging Sebastian with a smile and a short nod before crossing to Kurt. “He said it looked like you were having trouble with the new routine. I can help you, if you want.”

“Well…” Kurt started, his eyes shifting between Blaine’s soft, honey-colored eyes and Sebastian’s almost emerald ones, “I…”

“Don’t worry about it, Blaine. I took care of it,” Sebastian interjected without his usual flirtatious fire.

“Oh.” Blaine turned back to Sebastian, surprised that he hadn’t left yet. “That’s nice. Thank you, Sebastian.”

Sebastian nodded, his eyes lingering on Kurt’s face as he spoke as if they were still the only two people in the room.

The three became silent and another tension grew - not a tension bred of promise and excitement, but an uncomfortable one – one that Sebastian was itching to get away from.

“Well, I’ll just leave you guys to it,” Sebastian teased, winking and grinning like normal, though there was a degree to which Kurt felt that his heart wasn’t in it. “You take care of that Warbler, Blaine.”

Sebastian turned on his heel and walked toward the door. Kurt watched Sebastian leave, weaving his way through the sofas and the rest of the outdated furniture, stopping at the door to offer one last tight-lipped nod in good-bye. Kurt raised a hand to wave but Blaine slipped in front of him, grabbing his hand and blocking Kurt’s view of the door. When Blaine moved aside to drag Kurt into position, Sebastian was gone.

“Okay, Kurt,” Blaine said, rubbing Kurt’s shoulders in that familiar way he used to relax him…and it worked, too – or at least, it did. The fact that it didn’t at the moment unnerved Kurt. “Show me what Sebastian taught you. Five…six…seven…eight…”

Kurt took two steps to the left, and then one to the right, with Blaine moving beside him, and he sighed. The world seemed to fall back into place, and that moment with Sebastian before – that strange, confusing, exciting moment – had passed. This was the way things were supposed to be…until he stepped out again to the left and tripped over his own feet.

“Oh, Kurt,” Blaine cooed, and the sound of pity in his voice nearly enraged Kurt. Sebastian didn’t pity him. He treated him like he was human. “You should have come to me if you had a problem with the steps. Let’s start from the beginning.” Blaine started again and Kurt tried to follow, but the outcome was the same. He could dance beside Blaine all he wanted, but he would still be out of step.

Blaine started talking, but Kurt couldn’t really hear him, his mind reeling with the memory of how easy it had been to fall into step with Sebastian.


	2. Out of Bounds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Kurt's first show choir competition as an official Warbler, being held at none other than McKinley High. But when old memories spring up give him stage fright, will it be Blaine or Sebastian who pulls him out of the lurch?

Kurt stood, head bowed, eyes closed, meditating over the lyrics to the songs he was about to perform.

Well, not just he, but _they_ \- _The Warblers_. But Kurt felt like _he_ was the one on display – front and center, all eyes on him here in the all-too-familiar April Rhodes Auditorium.

Kurt had been practicing for this performance for weeks - his first show choir competition as a member of _The Dalton Academy Warblers_. Why did it have to be hosted by McKinley High? Why didn’t they just make them perform on a tight rope over a pit of alligators? He definitely would be sweating less. He took a deep breath in and held it, trying to come up with a list of positives – something that would keep him from tearing off his uniform and running for the hills.

His old friends – the _New Directions_ – would be sitting out in the audience, and they would be rooting for him. He knew that they missed him; he missed them, too. For the first time they would see how well he fit in with his new singing group and they would know he was okay.

His new friends – _The Warblers_ – would be by his side on stage, and even though he sometimes felt a little lost in the crowd of blue blazers and striped ties, he would be contributing to something great, something bigger than himself.

But mostly, he would be proving to the homophobic turd blossoms of Lima, OH, that nothing could get Kurt Hummel down – though in retrospect, and not his proudest moment, he was secretly glad he didn’t get that part in the dual solo with Blaine that he had tried out for. He wanted it – he wanted it _so_ bad - but he couldn’t sing it here. Anywhere but here.

He wasn’t quite ready for that.

He felt hands clamp down on his shoulders, then start to massage gently. Kurt smiled shyly. He knew those hands anywhere.

“Come on, Kurt,” Blaine said in his ear, excitement bleeding through his words, “we’re going to go on stage any minute. We’d better huddle up with the group.”

Kurt nodded, letting Blaine pull him along as he waved the other members of the group over. Bit by bit the other boys joined them – the last to fall in being Sebastian Smythe, not that that was too unusual. He was always the last to arrive. He looked at Kurt standing with Blaine, Blaine manhandling his shoulders, and he grinned.

It was an amused grin but it didn’t quite touch his eyes.

Those grass-green eyes focused hard on Blaine’s hands where they rested on Kurt’s shoulders, so hard that Kurt could feel heat rise off his skin beneath his jacket. He wasn’t entirely sure who Sebastian was angry at. Regardless of their moment dancing in the senior commons, Sebastian still seemed to pursue Blaine pretty hardcore – at least in front of Kurt.

But he also had an affinity for giving Kurt his attention – but in different, less sexually suggestive ways.

If Kurt dropped a pencil in the hallways between classes, Sebastian was there behind him, picking it up.

If Kurt reached for a book off the shelves in the library, Sebastian seemed to get to it first and hand it to him.

The one time Kurt arrived late for French class, Sebastian made a copy of the notes for him.

It seemed uncanny how Sebastian always seemed to be in the right place at the right time. They only had two classes together, so it didn’t make sense that their schedules seemed to mirror one another.

Of course, Sebastian still had his inappropriate moments around Kurt, like when Kurt bent over to adjust the hem of his pants and Sebastian wolf-whistled at him. Or when Sebastian caught Kurt practicing in the senior commons again (this time performing the steps he had been struggling over perfectly) and propositioned him. But it was lighthearted, less serious, and strangely less threatening than before.

Maybe it even sounded a bit sincere.

“Okay, Warblers,” Blaine said, dropping his hands from Kurt’s shoulders and calling all eyes to him. “Now, we’ve gone over these routines ad nauseum, and I have no doubts in my mind that we’re going to nail this.”

A general murmur or agreement went up from the boys in the group. Kurt’s eyes flicked up to Sebastian and caught him rolling his eyes, still with a tight grin on his face.

“The only suggestions I have are Thad…” Blaine turned to address the Warbler immediately to his right, “remember to keep an eye on that half-measure rest you keep rushing out of.”

“Right oh,” Thad said with a wink.

“And Kurt…”

Kurt turned to look at Blaine, his eyebrows furrowed, nervous since Blaine had never mentioned he had been doing anything wrong before then.

“Yes?” he asked.

“We’ve had a little change in plans.” Blaine fixed Kurt with eyes that hid a secret that Kurt could tell Blaine obviously thought was big news by the way the smile on his face began to grow. “It seems that Jamie has food poisoning, so _you’ll_ be performing the dual solo with me.”

Blaine clapped Kurt on the shoulders, smiling wider than anything. The Warblers surrounding them followed suit, congratulating him and offering him their hands to shake.

All except Sebastian, who was the only one who seemed to really look at Kurt’s face and notice his expression – his face blanched and his lips pinched tight, sort of the way he’d look if he was about to get hit by a bus.

“When…when did that happen?” Kurt asked, trying to force a smile that wasn’t there.

“His folks called me last night,” Blaine said, distracted by the other boys congratulating him as well for some reason.

“So, why am I just hearing about this now?” Kurt tried to keep his voice upbeat, not wanting to let on the fact that his entire body had just frozen over, from toes to roots and everything in between.

“Because I was thinking about carrying the solo myself, but then I remembered how much you wanted it.”

“Blaine…”

Blaine smiled, throwing his arm around Kurt’s shoulder and giving him a squeeze.

“You’re welcome,” he whispered. “Okay, Warblers,” Blaine said, addressing the group again, “on stage in ten.”

The boys dispersed, heading to the water fountain, the bathroom, whatever last minute preparations they felt the need to make.

“Don’t worry,” Blaine said, rubbing Kurt’s shoulders again, “because you and I are going to kill this thing.” Blaine dropped a subtle kiss onto Kurt’s shoulder before heading off as well, leaving Kurt stuck in place, mouth agape, his eyes wide and hollow.

Blaine left, but Sebastian hung back, not letting on that Kurt’s paralysis had him a little worried.

“Well, well, well,” Sebastian said, joking even though the words didn’t carry his signature mocking sting, “so you got your solo after all.” Kurt didn’t move. The words didn’t seem to register. He simply stared ahead, his face rapidly turning green.

“Kurt, what’s wrong?” Sebastian laughed dryly. “You look like you’re going to be sick.”

“I _am_ going to be sick,” Kurt answered finally. “I can’t do this. I can’t… I don’t think I can even breathe.”

“Oh, come on,” Sebastian said. “This is your chance, Hummel. This is what you wanted, right? You should be peeing yourself with excitement.” Sebastian smiled wider, looking Kurt up and down. “Wait…you didn’t pee yourself, did you?

“He just…he just threw this on me,” Kurt muttered, talking in a low tone, blank eyes staring in the direction Blaine had gone, as if Sebastian wasn’t there. “Ten minutes before we’re going to perform. I’m not…I’m not prepared.”

“Not prepared?” Sebastian laughed. “I’ve heard you practice that part alone in your room a hundred times.”

Kurt glared and Sebastian smirked.

“We share a wall, remember?” Sebastian shook his head. “God, you have no idea how many times I’ve wanted to shove my fist through that wall and strangle you.”

Kurt’s glare cooled and he went back to looking terrified.

“The last time I tried out for a solo here at McKinley…” Kurt paused, his eyes scanning the students behind stage, the stage hands, the various people loitering about, as if he was looking for someone in particular, “some homophobic bastard threatened to kill me.”

Sebastian’s smile dropped. He had done some horrible things in his time to get what he wanted; he’d even done and said some horrible things to Kurt, but Sebastian counted those things as teasing. All in good fun…until it wasn’t. But for as bad as he could be – and he could admit to being awful - he’d never threatened anyone with their lives.

“Kurt, I’m sorry…”

It hadn’t dawned on Sebastian what being back here at his old high school meant for Kurt, but by the look on Kurt’s face, the way he went pale and his lower lip trembled, Sebastian saw that it meant pain, humiliation, oppression, a hundred bad memories…

Memories Kurt fought hard to forget.

Sebastian didn’t have memories of abuse plaguing him, threatening to spring out and immobilize him at any minute. He was blessed, and sometimes he took those blessings for granted. It made him pompous and arrogant.

It was a reason, not an excuse.

But Blaine – he was another matter altogether.

Blaine had to have known. Blaine _should_ have known, and if he did - shame on him for putting Kurt into this position.

“Come on,” Sebastian said, taking Kurt by the arm and leading him behind a prop wall, painted to look like a street scene from _West Side Story_.

“What are you…what are you going to do?” Kurt asked in a voice so small it had become just a choked-off sound.

Sebastian pulled Kurt into the shadow, put his hands on his shoulders, and looked him dead in the eyes.

“You’ve got this, Kurt,” Sebastian said in the most serious, non-sarcastic voice Kurt had ever heard come from that boy’s mouth. Kurt stared at him blankly, lips parted, his whole body rigid. Regardless of Sebastian’s sudden and surprising change in attitude, Kurt could not get his heart to slow down, or his insides to unfreeze. He couldn’t help the feeling that he would walk out on stage, open his mouth, and nothing would come out. Laughter would inevitably follow from the audience – his friends included – and at some point he would pass out.

Sebastian stared at Kurt with disbelief, then dropped his head in frustration at his non-reaction.

“Do you hear me, Kurt?” He shook Kurt a bit, just enough to knock him from his stupor. “You’ve got this. You can do this. Better than Jamie. Better than Blaine. Better than any other Warbler, Kurt. You’ve got to believe it.”

Kurt nodded, but he didn’t have a voice to answer.

“Do you?” Sebastian asked with another shake to Kurt’s shoulders. “Do you believe it?”

“I do,” Kurt said, swallowing to clear the doubt from his voice. “I do believe it.”

Sebastian nodded.

“Good,” he said.

A series of three pings came from a speaker above their heads.

_“Dalton Academy Warblers, five minutes to curtain.”_

Sebastian felt Kurt’s shoulders tense up beneath his hands at the announcement. Sebastian looked at Kurt once, took in the expression of shock on his face, then grabbed him by the blazer lapels and kissed him. Kurt yelped in response, his hands coming up to push Sebastian away, but stopped when Sebastian crushed his body against him.

Kurt had only ever been kissed by one other boy before, and not like this. Nothing like this. Blaine’s kiss – days before in the senior commons – had been tentative and sweet, the kind of kiss that one would expect at the blossoming of a new relationship and young love. Blaine’s kiss tingled all over Kurt’s body, muddying his brain, changing him, changing _them_ , in subtle, watercolor ways.

This wasn’t any of those things. It was hot, urgent, and Kurt felt it like a flash of pure heat from his lips to his toes. It didn’t just tingle, it burned hot. It made his insides melt. It was lightning behind his eyes, and a loud crash like cymbals inside his ears. It wasn’t necessarily what he thought he wanted, but it was definitely what he needed.

But it made things potentially a world of complicated. Why did Kurt have to like it so much?

Sebastian pulled away hesitantly, with a whine in his own throat that matched the way Kurt felt – that he didn’t want this to be over so soon, even if it was Sebastian Smythe.

Though, Sebastian had proven he wasn’t really all that bad…hadn’t he?

“Okay,” Sebastian said, slightly breathless. “Let’s go out there and kill this thing.”

“Yeah,” Kurt agreed. “Yeah, let’s…let’s kill this…” Kurt stared after Sebastian, watched him walk out from behind the wall and walk off toward the stage without a backward glance to see if Kurt followed. Kurt didn’t follow…not right away. He stayed behind for a moment, a trembling hand – trembling now for a completely different reason than nerves about singing - raised to his lips, and packed his feelings about that kiss away so he could deal with them _after_ the competition.


	3. Out of My Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After an unexpected kiss from Sebastian helps Kurt get over his epic stage fright, he has to deal with the consequences.

“Alright, Warblers!” Wes called out as the group of boys made their way to their cars. “Party in the senior commons when we get back!”

“Who’s handling the booze?” Jeff asked, walking backward toward his Ford Fusion with his boyfriend, Nick, in tow.

“Let me worry about that,” Wes answered with a wink. “Why don’t you and Nick go get some chips? Trent? You head back and break out the sound system. And David?” Wes waved an arm to catch the attention of a boy already at his Nissan Sentra across the parking lot. “Go see if you can get some of the Crawford Country Day girls to sneak out.”

“Will do,” David called back, the remaining boys cheering over the plans for the evening.

Kurt was impressed. Wes had this impromptu party planning thing down pat.

Alcohol, chips, music, and girls. For a bunch of private school boys who spent the majority of their time stuffed in conservative, poorly tailored 1950s era suits, _The Warblers_ knew how to celebrate a win.

Okay, maybe it wasn’t a total win. Technically, they tied with McKinley, but it could still be counted as a win. If nothing else, the evening had been a personal victory for Kurt. He overcame his demons. By standing up on the April Rhodes Auditorium stage, he declared to everyone present that no one could touch him. By not turning and running, he fought the stigma of homophobia prevalent at McKinley High School, sang his part in the dual solo (flawlessly, in his humble opinion) and they won. They were moving on.

So was he.

And he had done it with the help of Sebastian Smythe, of all people.

Sebastian Smythe and a well-timed kiss.

That kiss. That amazing, unexpected, uninvited kiss.

It came out of nowhere. If it had been offered instead of given, Kurt might have said _no_. But there was no doubt that it had helped give Kurt strength, and now, it was all he could think about.

Sebastian’s eyes burning into his.

Sebastian’s hands on his skin.

Sebastian’s lips on his mouth.

Kurt couldn’t decide why he kept thinking about it – was it because Sebastian shouldn’t have done it, or because Kurt wanted him to do it again?

Kurt and Sebastian had ridden in separate cars on the way to the competition and they rode in separate cars on the way home. Kurt carpooled in his Navigator both ways with Blaine and a few other Dalton boys; Sebastian drove himself in his Audi R8.

_(As a second-generation grease monkey, Kurt loved that car. Who was he kidding? It was hot!)_

The competition had started in the early afternoon but night had settled in on them while they were in the enclosed, windowless auditorium. As they drove back to Westerville, Blaine led a sing-along of his favorite Katy Perry hits, but Kurt found it hard to participate. He mouthed the words soundlessly while keeping his eyes on the road, but his mind replayed that stolen kiss over and over.

After an a cappella performance of _Firework_ , Blaine noticed that Kurt was only pretending to sing.

“Hey, Kurt! You’re not really singing!” Blaine scolded.

Kurt startled at Blaine’s voice shattering his daydream, but he didn’t let it show.

“Well, I’m trying to not kill us,” Kurt argued, covering for his lack of participation. “It’s a two-hour drive back to Dalton, and I don’t want to drive into oncoming traffic because I didn’t come in at the right time during our fifth rendition of _Roar_.”

Blaine’s hands clamped down on Kurt’s shoulders, kneading gently. Kurt blew out a long, frustrated breath. Blaine’s strong hands felt good on his shoulders, massaging his muscles, touching him in general, but with the memory of Sebastian’s kiss in the forefront of his mind, it was all so confusing.

“You’re so tense,” Blaine commented, massaging harder, his fingers hitting all the right spots, which only made Kurt tense up more as he tried to shove Sebastian’s kiss to the side and enjoy this attention from Blaine. Kurt wanted Blaine. He’d always wanted Blaine, from the moment Kurt introduced himself on that winding Dalton staircase.

And Blaine seemed to like him, too.

Sebastian didn’t care about Kurt. He’d made that clear several times before. That kiss had nothing to do with caring about Kurt. Sebastian had kissed Kurt because Kurt was freaking out and Sebastian wanted to win. That was all.

Kurt would have to get over it.

Blaine was the charming, dapper good guy, and Sebastian was the snarky, meerkat-faced bad boy.

Kurt sighed in exception at his own somewhat questionable stereotyping.

 _Good_ guy didn’t necessarily mean _better_ guy, and besides, Kurt did love himself a bad boy every once in a while.

He gritted his teeth.

No. The bad boy cliché was a tired trope that never played out well in the end.

Except for in _Rebel Without A Cause_.

And _Ten Things I Hate About You_.

He could possibly count _A Walk to Remember_ even though Mandy Moore’s character died in the end.

He blinked hard and shook his head, focusing his attention back on the road.

What was he thinking? Even if Sebastian hadn’t been helping him just so that Dalton could win, one kiss didn’t mean Sebastian wanted anything else to do with him.

Kurt had everything he wanted. Why was he letting this bother him?

“Kurt?” Blaine interrupted Kurt’s chaotic thoughts again. This time he seemed worried.

“What?” Kurt asked, attempting not to sound too overly preoccupied.

“I’ve been talking to you this whole time. I even asked you a question and you didn’t answer me. Are you feeling okay? Did you want me to stop?” Blaine’s hand retreated but Kurt’s hand chased it, pulling it back to his shoulder.

“No,” Kurt said, hoping that Blaine’s touch would erase his confusing feelings and set him back on the right track. “No, don’t stop. Please?”

The other boys, whom Kurt had easily forgotten and who had gone quiet without their captain urging them to start another song, hooted and ooo’d at Kurt’s request.

Kurt rolled his eyes, Blaine laughed, and everything seemed to fall back into place. The group in the Navigator recounted the events of the afternoon and sang more songs. The boys teased Kurt and Blaine fondly as Blaine continued to rub Kurt’s shoulders.

This was the way it should be.

It was absolutely irrelevant that Kurt still couldn’t get Sebastian’s green eyes and that fireball kiss out of his head.

* * *

 

The Warblers’ victory party was already in full swing when Kurt parked his Navigator outside the dorms. Wes had found a way to get them beer, as promised, and Thad’s older brother had scored them a few cases of wine coolers. Most of the boys were in the tipsy giggling stage when Kurt and Blaine walked through the doors to the senior commons.

“I’m going to go get a beer,” Blaine said, talking over the music pumping through surround sound speakers situated in the far corners of the room. “Did you want one?”

“No, thank you,” Kurt said in a raised voice, waving the offer of alcohol away, not entirely thrilled with the idea of Blaine drinking, but to each his own. Blaine kissed Kurt on the cheek and patted him on the shoulder, heading off to a table on the far side that had been set up to serve drinks. While Kurt waited for Blaine to return, his eyes swept the room, looking from boy to boy to see if Sebastian was around, drinking and partying along with everyone else. Kurt hated that he was curious, but he felt there was no harm in looking.

As long as he just looked. Blaine would get all of Kurt’s attention the moment he came back.

Trent and David, closer to drunk than the other boys, stumbled by, snickering at a private joke they had made and found too funny to talk about without snorting.

“Hey,” Kurt said, putting a hand on Trent’s shoulder, “have you guys seen Sebastian?”

Kurt had no idea what he was doing asking after Sebastian. Of course, he could say that he was just making sure Sebastian hadn’t spun out and died on the Interstate.

Yup, that was all.

“Sebastian?” Trent shot David a look.

“Yeah,” Kurt said, impatient for an answer, assuming that Blaine would be back with his beer any second.

“Oh,” David said with a giggle, “he’s being a party pooper and went straight up to his room.”

Then David and Trent looked at each other again and burst out laughing.

“Maybe you should go see if he’s okay,” Trent suggested, restraining himself from saying anything else as David pulled him away.

“O-kay,” Kurt said, watching the boys huddled together trip their way toward the wine coolers.

Kurt stayed in that one spot and waited for Blaine to reappear with his drink, but when after fifteen minutes he was nowhere to be seen, Kurt went searching for him. He circled the senior commons twice. It really wasn’t that large a room, especially with about twenty loopy boys and a handful of girls crowded into it, but Blaine was not among them. Kurt figured that Blaine went up to his room, most likely to get changed out of his uniform. He probably got beer on his blazer (Blaine had a problem with drinking – that problem was called spilling). But as he walked up the stairs that led to the upper level of student rooms, he had a strange change of heart.

Kurt realized he didn’t want to hunt down an inebriated Blaine…at least, not yet.

He wanted to know what Sebastian was doing.

Kurt bypassed Blaine’s room without knocking on the door, without even putting his ear to it to see if Blaine was actually in there, and went down to the end of the hallway where Sebastian’s room was – a door down from his own.

Kurt walked up to the door, telling himself he was only there to make sure Sebastian was okay, that he got in alright, that…Kurt didn’t know. He needed to see him once before the night was over. He’d figure out a reason to explain it later.

Kurt knocked on the door softly. It was barely a knock. It was more of a scratch.

“Se-Sebastian?” Kurt stuttered, knocking louder. “Sebastian? What are you doing in your room? The party’s downstairs.”

Kurt rested his ear against the door, trying to make out any sound. He thought he heard a scuffling, but then there was nothing.

“Sebastian?” Kurt called out, knocking again. “Sebastian? Are you in there?”

The door knob jiggled, the door opened, and there Sebastian was, still in, though only partially, his Dalton uniform. His tie hung loosely around his neck, the Windsor knot tugged down, the top three buttons of his shirt undone, and his jacket looked rumpled, like he had been sleeping in it.

“Sebastian?” Kurt wrinkled his nose at Sebastian’s disheveled appearance. “What are you…”

Sebastian stared at Kurt with a surprisingly shy grin and an incomprehensible expression in his green eyes. Then it hit Kurt.

“Oh my God,” he said, throwing a hand to his mouth. “I’m sorry. Are you…did I interrupt…”

Kurt took a step back. Well, that answered that question about Sebastian’s feelings for him.

Out of the blue, something else hit him.

A sex-rumpled looking Sebastian, a missing Blaine…

“Fuck!” Kurt said. “I should have known.”

Sebastian’s brow furrowed but with no trace of his signature smirk on his face, which Kurt found odd. Sebastian should be smirking up a storm. He won. He beat Kurt. He got Blaine.

“Should have known what?” Sebastian asked, running a hand through his unkempt hair.

“You know what? Forget it,” Kurt spat, but in his anger, his hurt, his disappointment, he couldn’t tell what he was madder over – Sebastian stealing Blaine out from under his nose, or Sebastian not really wanting him to begin with.

Had Sebastian managed to trap Blaine in some dark corner and kiss him, too?

Kurt didn’t want to find out.

He turned on his heel, ready to storm away to his room, but Sebastian grabbed him by the arm. One sharp pull was all it took to drag Kurt into his room. Sebastian slammed the door with his foot, his hands occupied with manhandling Kurt.

“What the…what the fuck are you doing?” Kurt roared, wrenching his arm free from Sebastian’s grasp. “I don’t want to be a part of your disgusting threesome!”

“Threesome?” Sebastian asked, sounding completely befuddled. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“You and…” Kurt spun around, looking over at the bed, at the closet, at the desk in front of the window, but there was no one other than the two of them in the room. Kurt turned back to Sebastian, his own brow furrowed now. “Wait…aren’t you…”

“Aren’t I what?” Sebastian asked, still looking confused, but also tired and maybe a bit stung by Kurt’s assumption.

Kurt closed his mouth, tightening his lips into a thin line. He didn’t want to admit to what he had thought, didn’t want to accuse Sebastian of trying to steal the boy who may or may not be his boyfriend.

He didn’t want to be a hypocrite. After all, what the fuck was Kurt doing in Sebastian’s room anyway?

“Kurt?” Sebastian said his name as a question, waiting for an explanation.

“Never mind,” Kurt replied. Sebastian deserved a different answer, but Kurt didn’t have one to give him – not yet.

“What are you doing here?” Sebastian asked, walking up to Kurt, his green eyes holding no hint of teasing or condescension in them.

“I was…I was just wondering why you weren’t down at the party,” Kurt explained, all too aware that Sebastian was getting closer, aware of what that closeness felt like after that kiss from earlier.

Kurt felt fading vibrations of that kiss buzz along his lips. He desperately wanted to feel it full-force again.

“I didn’t feel like celebrating,” Sebastian said with a shrug. “Besides, that top 40 bullshit they’re playing downstairs was giving me a migraine, so I came up here to listen to some real music.”

“Real music, huh?” Kurt asked, teasing a little. Kurt turned his head to listen to the music providing a backdrop to their current conversation. “I guess if you consider Ed Sheeran real music.”

Sebastian raised his hands to Kurt’s waist and Kurt tried to ignore it. Of course, the best way to do that would be to move away from Sebastian’s grasp, but Kurt didn’t want to do that, either.

“I do,” Sebastian said. “Do you think…would you dance with me?”

Kurt raised an eyebrow.

“Dance with you?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Sebastian said, his lips quirking up at the corners. “I know you can dance.” Sebastian glimpsed down at Kurt’s lips, as if he had read Kurt’s mind and saw the memory of their kiss play across Kurt’s brain. “To tell you the truth, I was sort of hoping you’d find your way up here.”

“Really?” Kurt asked, his heart skipping at the thought of Sebastian in his room this whole time hoping that Kurt would come upstairs from the party and join him.

But Kurt couldn’t stay. That wouldn’t be right. Not with Blaine waiting for him.

Blaine, the boy who _might_ be his boyfriend, who had gone for a beer about an hour ago and didn’t come back.

That didn’t matter. Kurt was sure this wasn’t right…even if Sebastian’s hands around his waist felt so good.

“I don’t think…” Kurt started, feeling Sebastian’s grip tighten, “I mean, I’m not sure…”

“Come on, Kurt,” Sebastian pleaded. “Just one dance? Look…you’re pretty much dancing already.”

“Wha---“

Kurt looked down at his feet, shifting beneath him, and chuckled.

“Yeah,” he said. “I guess I am.”

“See?” Sebastian leaned in closer, his hands moving up to Kurt’s back. “It’s just one dance. One dance won’t ruin what you have with Blaine…”

“No,” Kurt agreed, feeling himself lean in to meet Sebastian. “I guess it won’t.”

“And you know what else won’t ruin it?”

Kurt looked up at Sebastian, Sebastian’s mouth inches from his own, his breath dancing over Kurt’s skin with every word he spoke against Kurt’s lips.

“What?” Kurt asked.

“Another kiss,” Sebastian answered, and before Kurt knew, _he_ was the one closing the distance between them, pressing his lips to Sebastian’s, taking back what Sebastian had stolen earlier. Sebastian laughed in surprise, that small exhale of breath tickling Kurt’s tongue in the most unexpectedly sensual way.

“You know, since we’re just kissing,” Sebastian said, not moving too far away from Kurt’s kisses – _Kurt’s_ kisses, “why don’t we move this someplace a bit more comfortable.”

“That sounds like an idea,” Kurt agreed, all thoughts on the dichotomy between good guys and bad boys, trying to decide between Sebastian and Blaine, figuring out if he was in a relationship or not, if he _wanted_ a relationship or not, all out the window as he let Sebastian lead him to his bed and lie him down. Kurt grabbed at Sebastian’s tie, releasing the already messed up knot and pulling the fabric off his neck. Sebastian did the same, pulling Kurt’s tie off his neck, unbuttoning Kurt’s shirt, continuing the trail of kisses down the column of his throat and over his chest. Sebastian’s lips touched the hollow of Kurt’s throat and Kurt’s mind whirred. This was farther than he’d gone with Blaine, farther than he’d gone with anybody. He knew that Sebastian was more…experienced. He had no idea where Sebastian might think this was headed. He had only mentioned a kiss, hadn’t he?

“Sebastian…” Kurt moaned at the touch of Sebastian’s tongue against his skin, right above his breast bone. “Sebastian, I’m a…”

“I know,” Sebastian cut in. “I mean…I figured. I don’t want to take that from you. Not now, not like this. I just want…I just want to touch you. Is that okay?”

Kurt’s response was breathy but definite.

“Okay.”

Sebastian put a hand on Kurt’s cheek, and looking into his eyes, he kissed him. He watched Kurt until his eyelids fluttered shut, till he brought his hands up Sebastian’s back, dipping them beneath his shirt, pulling at his undershirt to creep underneath. Sebastian took that as his cue. He slid his hand down Kurt’s front, unbuttoning his slacks with one hand, and then sliding inside, rubbing over the cotton outline of the bulge in his underwear.

“Oh,” Kurt moaned when Sebastian’s hand gently gripped his cock, eyes flying open at the heat filling his body – a heat he’d only ever experienced alone.

“Is that alright?” Sebastian asked, smiling like he knew the answer, like he could read it all over Kurt’s flushed face.

“Yes,” Kurt said, nodding like mad. “Yes, oh God, yes.”

“Touch me, Kurt,” Sebastian pleaded, his voice sounding sweet and a little scared that Kurt might reject him, even now with his hand down Kurt’s pants, stroking him.

Kurt reached between them, deft fingers making a mockery of the single button and zip holding Sebastian’s pants together. He slipped a trembling hand down the front of Sebastian’s pants, feeling him with delicate fingertips running over his boxer briefs, and dear Lord – the length bobbing heavily against his palm felt larger than he had imagined.

And he _had_ imagined it.

“God, Kurt…” Sebastian groaned, throwing his head back. He squeezed his eyes shut for only a moment to absorb the warmth of Kurt’s hand, but otherwise Sebastian watched him, eyes glued to his face, dropping kisses onto his lips every time Kurt gasped.

Kurt stroked him slowly, taking Sebastian the way he would himself, with pressure along the shaft and a slight twist beneath the head. Sebastian copied his technique, making the educated guess that this was the way Kurt liked to be touched best – and he was right. It made Kurt harder knowing that with the multitude of guys Sebastian had been with (Kurt didn’t have an estimate, but that’s how the rumor mill spun it – it was a reputation Sebastian had brought with him when he arrived at Dalton) that he would follow Kurt’s lead.

Sebastian held Kurt’s gaze, watching him splinter, watching his whole body coil and pieces of him drift away as he neared his climax. Sebastian smiled at him, knowing perfectly well what he was doing to Kurt, but his expression wasn’t cocky or smug. It didn’t hold the condescending aura of the usual looks he aimed Kurt’s way.

“Sebastian…oh, Sebastian,” Kurt muttered, louder and louder as his orgasm washed over him, his hand shaking as he felt Sebastian cum with him, “Sebastian…Sebastian…”

“Kurt!” Sebastian grunted, his name on Sebastian’s lips sounding more urgent than Kurt’s repetitive chant. “Kurt!...Kurt!”

Kurt’s heart pounded. His head pounded. Something else pounded, too, and that pounding – harsh and loud, echoing in the small room - made Kurt sit straight up.

The pounding had woken him. He sat on his bed, the lights off, his mouth agape with his hand shoved down the front of his own pants, cock twitching, leaking the last evidence of his orgasm over his clenched fist.

It had been a dream. All of it a dream.

But the pounding on his door was very real, as was the voice yelling at him from the other side.

“Kurt! Kurt! Are you alright?”

Kurt’s body seized up, every muscle going rigid, ceasing to move.

It was Sebastian’s voice. Sebastian was pounding at his door.

Sebastian’s name had been on his lips before he woke up.

 _Fuck_!

They shared a wall. Sebastian must have heard him.

How loud had he been?

He suddenly remembered everything. He and Blaine had arrived at the senior commons, and Blaine went for a beer, but he ended up drinking three. Not half an hour into the party, Blaine felt so sick that Kurt had to drag him up to bed. Blaine giggled a lot, made a pass or two, but knocked out cold the second his head hit his pillow. Kurt peeled Blaine out of his blazer and tie, along with his shoes and his button down shirt, and left him to sleep off the alcohol. Then, still confused by everything that had happened that day, Kurt went to his room, changed into his pajamas, and climbed into bed.

His brain must have tried to sort through his insecurity and doubt while he slept.

Making out with Sebastian was apparently the solution that his brain came up with.

Great.

Kurt decided to stay quiet, to see if he could fool Sebastian into thinking he had fallen back to sleep. The pounding stopped, but he could hear Sebastian outside his door.

“Kurt,” Sebastian called, “if you don’t open up, I’m going to break this door down.”

Okay, so laying low wasn’t going to work.

“I’m coming,” Kurt yelled, biting his lip when a voice in his head uncomfortably supplied _too late._

Kurt cleaned himself as best he could, wiping off his hand and his stomach with his t-shirt. He tossed the soiled shirt in the hamper and pulled another one out of his dresser to wear. Dressed in the clean shirt, he took a deep breath in, let it out, and opened his door. He peeked out through the crack, expecting to see Sebastian staring at him with a smug grin and laughing eyes. But this Sebastian wore concern on his face as he tried to look past Kurt into his room to make sure everything was as it should be.

“Are you alright?” Sebastian asked, his brow drawn together with worry.

“Yeah,” Kurt said. “Yeah, I’m fine. No reason to come all the way out here.”

Sebastian crossed his arms over his chest, looking offended.

“Well, excuse me, princess, but it sounded like you were calling out…for help.” Sebastian didn’t laugh when he said it, he didn’t even really smile. Something in Sebastian’s eyes clouded over, looking sultry and dark when Kurt expected Sebastian to tear him down.

Something in those eyes seemed to beg Kurt for an invitation.

Kurt couldn’t give him one. He had a boyfriend…sort of.

Blaine had kissed him, but he hadn’t asked him to be his boyfriend, not officially – not in so many words. It just seemed to be assumed, and there was something about that _assumption_ that didn’t thrill Kurt.

Kind of like he had no say in the matter.

Like when Blaine gave him that solo.

Kurt couldn’t ask Sebastian inside his room…could he?

“I guess I was having a crazy dream,” Kurt said, faking a yawn to show how nonplussed he was about the whole thing.

Meanwhile, seeing Sebastian at his door right after the dream he had made his exhausted cock start to become hard again.

“So, you don’t need any help?” Sebastian asked dubiously, raising an eyebrow, calling Kurt out. “Everything’s okay?”

“All good here,” Kurt said, his cheeks rapidly turning red, knowing he’d been caught. His eyes looked away before he lost himself entirely. “I should…I should really go back to sleep.”

“Yeah,” Sebastian agreed after a brief hesitation. “I should…go, too.”

Kurt nodded, slowly pushing his door shut, staring down at Sebastian’s leather slippers standing outside his doorway. Kurt stopped, not wanting to leave things in this awkward way, with him escaping back into his room, the both of them knowing that on some level Kurt was lying.

“Thank you,” Kurt said, “for coming to check on me.”

“You’re welcome,” Sebastian said. He didn’t leave, didn’t turn away, and that infuriated Kurt a bit, turning his confusion up a whole other notch.

If Sebastian didn’t care, he’d walk away, right?

He wouldn’t have even come to the door. He would have kicked at the wall with his foot and cursed at Kurt to shut up. Or he would have said something disgusting and intensely inappropriate. But Sebastian did neither of those things.

In a way, Kurt wished he had.

The door shut with a click. Kurt leaned his forehead against the wood and waited for the sound of footsteps to announce Sebastian’s retreat down the hall. It took longer than Kurt thought it would for Sebastian to leave. But just as Kurt considered opening the door again, he heard a sound like a hand running down his door, and then the muffled padding of slipper soles on the marble hallway. Kurt turned his back and sighed, sliding down the wall to sit on the cold floor. He brought his knees up to his chest, ignoring the spot of frigid wetness in the front of his briefs that clung to his skin.

He had had a wet dream about Sebastian.

He’d masturbated in his sleep, thrashed in his bed, called out Sebastian’s name, and came over his fist.

He hadn’t even had a wet dream about Blaine, not one that went past some intense kissing, a little dirty talk, and north of the equator touching.

There could only be one explanation for this.

Kurt was going out of his mind.

When he first came to Dalton and he met Blaine and Sebastian, the line between good and bad was so clearly drawn. Blaine was the boy that listened to Kurt kvetch about McKinley, listened to him talk about his hopes, his fears, the bullying, and tried to find a way to make things better. Sebastian was the obnoxious, pelvic-driven asshole who leered after Blaine every chance he got, made non-stop suggestive remarks and debasing comments at Kurt’s expense, and threw the weight of his father’s job and his exorbitant trust fund around.

But now things had started to shift, and those lines became blurrier by the day. But that didn’t matter. He knew where his heart lay.

He closed his eyes. He pictured the boy who danced beside him, the boy who encouraged him, the boy who kissed him, who made him feel safe, who made his toes curl. Once he had those images fixed in his mind, he took a deep breath, and said out loud so that he could hear it with his own ears and there would be no question, “Kurt Hummel only has feelings for Blaine Smy---“

Before he could finish, he bit his tongue so hard to stop himself that he almost yelled.

What the fuck!?

Kurt shook his head and let it drop in his hands.

What the hell was he going to do?


End file.
